Intruder 2
by Biensche
Summary: While Dean hits a bar Sam stays back at the motel where three guys try to rob him. Although he fights them off a few minutes later they seem to be back and without much thinking Sam shoots. But did he really shoot 'them? (Some swearing, set somewhere in the early seasons)
**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural".**

 **While Dean hits a bar Sam stays back at the motel where three guys try to rob him. Although he fights them off a few minutes later they seem to be back and without much thinking Sam shoots. But did he really shoot 'them'?**

 **I hope you enjoy. If you do (or if you don't) let me know.**

* * *

 **Intruder II**

"Fuck off! And don'tcha ever come back here, idjits!" Sam barked into the chilly night air at the three retreating burglars. Whatever they thought they might find in this shabby, run-down motel. Who did they think would stay here? Hardly anyone with money in their bank account.

"Idjits! Did I really… God, now I even take on Bobby's talking." The young hunter mumbled under his breath as he closed the door behind himself. He walked to the bathroom to get a good look at his eye which already had taken the brightest colors and a numb pain.

"Gotta give him that. Had a hard fist there", Sam observed while he pressed a cold-watered-washcloth against his hurting eyebrow.

After a moment and with a hiss, he took the now warm cloth away and looked in the mirror. His eye had turned into a bright black and blue. "Oh, great", the young man sighed. "Dean's gonna have a ball with this." Breathing deeply, he poured cold water over the washcloth and turned to walk back into the main room of the motel where he sat on the foot end of his bed.

"And where the hell is Dean? He just wanted to down some beers at that damn bar down the street." Sam felt pissed. Pissed that these three pricks had tried to rob them, _him_ , this motel room, whatever. Pissed that Dean was somewhere else instead. Pissed that he had a hurting eye. Pissed at himself to let those three get the better of him. Even if it was just for a moment. Pissed for what he knew was to come from Dean.

Yeah, well, he had fought them off. They probably hurt much more than he did. After he had sent some nice hard punches and swings at them he had pulled his gun from his jeans. He had seen their terrified eyes while at the same time trying to be the first one bursting through the door.

Sam bent over, putting his elbows on his knees, he put his head in his hands all the while keeping the gentle pressure with the washcloth against his eye.

Some weird sounds at the motel door had Sam startled. Had he not just sent those damn assholes off?

Sam reached for his gun which lay next to him and aimed at the door.

The door opened.

Mere seconds later a shot fell.

Sam jumped up, the wet rag falling to the floor, screaming, "Didn't I just tell ya to-" His words got stuck in his throat. He never finished his sentence. He stood as if he were stapled to the place and stared at the man. His mouth was slightly ajar, his eyes were widened in shock. His gun hand was still stretched out in front of him.

"Oh, holy crap." Sam stammered. Slowly coming out of his stupor he realized his still aiming gun and promptly lowered it to his side.

"Dean!"

His gun fell clattering to the floor as he rushed forward. His older brother stood next to the opened door leaning heavily against the doorframe staring with unbelieving eyes between Sam and his hand which he held pressed to his left side.

"What the fuck, Sam?" Dean finally managed to press out between clenched teeth. "Ouch!" His side hurt and burned immensely. Trying to get his breathing under control again as well as the pain from the gunshot wound – inflicted by his own brother – the older man briefly closed his eyes.

"Dean, I… I'm so…"

"Don't you dare… say sorry!" Dean's eyes flashed furiously as he stared his little brother down who stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes flooded with shame and regret and misery. What had he done? He had just shot his brother! How had that happened? How could it have happened?

Dean carefully peeled his hand away and stared at the red palm and fingers. "You just gonna… stand there… like a meter reader… or at least… help me out?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I… uh…" Sam mumbled and jumped into action without a plan what to do.

"Mind lending me a hand?" Dean snapped.

"No, yeah, lemme help ya to the bed." Sam hurried forward and steadied his brother while the two of them shuffled through the room to Dean's bed. Gently, Sam lowered Dean down onto it. The painful moan was not left unheard.

God, what he done? He had shot his brother! What if he-

"Sam, get the… med kit." Dean pulled Sam from his thoughts. The pain was still pretty bad and he had trouble breathing through the pain.

The younger brother ran off to the bathroom and returned only a few seconds later with the medical supplies, water in a bowl and all towels he could hold in his arms. Upon his return, Sam pushed all thoughts aside and simply concentrated on treating Dean's wound. He could bother with anything else later when his brother was okay.

"Take your shirt off", Sam said gently picking on Dean's dress shirt. After that he helped Dean lay down on the bed with as little as possible pain. Still Dean could not suppress several hisses. With every one of them Sam cringed.

"Here, take a sip or two." Sam handed Dean some whiskey to numb the pain which he gratefully took.

"So… uh… Doesn't look too bad", Sam stated and shot a quick glance at his brother who just returned his glance with hard eyes. "It's… just a graze… heh." Sam chuckled nervously.

"Huh", Dean panted.

"Lay still." Gently restraining Dean's legs by straddling them Sam washed the wound with some water causing Dean to moan. Dean tried to keep himself still on the bed which earned him a red face, tightly clenched fists in tangled sheets and sweating.

Sam felt every pain he had induced on his big brother as if it were his own. "Sorry, Dean."

"Ungh."

Carefully, Sam cleaned the wound. At least he had not hit anything vital. It just bled profusely. Sam grabbed for the towels and pushed them against the bleeding area. A low groan came over Dean's lips.

When he felt the bleeding slow down to a trickle Sam started to stitch the graze.

"Ouch, Sam!" He whispered reproachfully.

Sam pulled a sympathetic face. He finished the stitching and pressed dressings and gauze against Dean's side and taped them into place. He looked up at his brother's face. His eyes were closed; his forehead wrinkled in pain and sweat covered his skin.

Tentatively, Sam bathed his brother's face free of the sweat and caressed his cheek. Dean's eyes flew open and Sam stumbled back and fell on his rear next to the bed. Dean's eyes still flashed with anger as well as pain. Sam bit his lower lip. Then he got up, gathered the used stuff and brought it back to the bathroom.

"What the hell have I done? I-I really shot my brother. I shot my brother! How could I? Oh my", his voice trailed off as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed the bottle with pain killers which he put on Dean's nightstand with a glass of water. "Here." He said in a small voice. He sank down on his bed and watched his brother who had not moved nor spoken. Yet.

Dean gathered his strength. Sam had patched him up alright. That he knew for sure. But what the fuck had gotten into that kid that he shot at him? His own brother? Hell!

"What in the fucking hell was that?" Dean's voice boomed more than either brother had expected.

"Damn, Dean, I'm so sorry. I never meant to-"

"Yeah, I heard that the first twenty times." Dean roared, "Still doesn't explain shit. You shot me! Damn it! You better have a real good one for that."

"It's just a graze." Sam tried to defend his actions.

Dean stared daggers. "Even worse! Dammit! So you need to go back to train your shooting then, huh? Can't even hit your target? I ain't that small."

"You better be happy I missed", Sam replied with his head bowed.

"You better spill!" Dean's voice became dangerously low.

Sam swallowed around the big lump in his throat. Then he relayed the night's earlier events to his brother.

The more Sam spoke the bigger Dean's eyes became. When Sam told of the swing he took, Dean's head shot up. For the first time he took in Sam. "Are you okay?" His tone was worried.

"Yeah, just some bruise."

Dean looked him over trying to decide for himself if his baby brother was alright. When he felt reassured, he asked, "So, you thought, I was one of those douchebags?"

Sam nodded. "But I never meant to shoot them for real."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Huh?"

"They're humans. I just wanted to scare them off by shooting somewhere close to the door frame so they'd bolt. I didn't think that they – you – would step there and get hit."

"Buddy, you really need to work on your shooting. Or on you scaring people off. Or both." Dean's voice took on a lighter tone. His anger slowly faded. He did not know if it was because of the pain killers or the worry he just had felt for his brother or the exhaustion. And neither did he care for what reason.

A shy smile hushed over Sam's face as he picked up on it. "Well, apparently my 'awesome' teacher wasn't that awesome in teaching me that."

"Hey, I'm a wounded man. That's not fair. And I'm awesome!"

"Yeah, sure."

"Not my fault when my student ain't the sharpest tool in the shed and gets jumped by a sicko."

"There were three of 'em!" Sam tried to defend himself.

"So, he gets jumped by three human sickos. Humans!" Dean stifled a yawn and closed his eyes. "Dude, I taught you about everything I could about supernatural evil bastards but obviously I forgot to tell you how to handle yourself with humans."

"I thought I could handle myself pretty well so far." Sam stood up, pulled the blanket of his bed and tucked his older brother in.

Dean's voice was slow with fatigue, "Sammy, you still have a lot'a learn. You blush every time a girl just passes you by."

"Not true."

"Is true." With a big grin Dean fell in an exhausted but peaceful sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: This is a prompt from the lovely MiXiZ: Sam thinks Dean is some intruder and knocks him out. A little special was fitting in the word "Idjits".**

 **It's just another idea that popped up in my head which needed release.**

 **Thank you for reading (and commenting).**


End file.
